Two Lost Souls
by Tolkien'sInkwell
Summary: A DiamondDust Rebellion one-shot: Maybe it wasn't such an unbalanced trade, after all.


**This is a work of fan fiction, etc etc**

**Notice: the management apologizes for the ooc-ness that I'm certain is floating around in here . . . just my attempt to interpret characters and relationships and stuff. Enjoy anyway! And please review! (Flames will be extinguished by Hyorinmaru's icy breath...muahaha)

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Toushiro Hitsugaya lay huddled on an infirmary bed, facing deliberately away from the sword thoughtfully placed beside him. He waited for the dim, silent room to transform into his familiar ice field. Hyorinmaru's domain was the last place he wanted to be, but he knew it was unavoidable, so he simply waited patiently.

As Toushiro gained more knowledge of his powers, the cold wasteland of his childhood dreams had become less empty, until it looked more like some sort of frozen garden . . . and there, looming over his frozen domain, stood the ice dragon himself. "Ah," boomed Hyorinmaru in his resonant voice, "I thought you'd be coming here."

The dragon lowered his head towards his young master. Toushiro refused to look up. "The fight's done. Kusaka's dead."

"So it is you who gained my power," Hyorinmaru said in a kinder voice . . . or at least, a less forbidding one.

Toushiro finally raised his eyes. He met the spirit's gaze with a hate-filled glare. "Well, I don't want it!" he cried. Tears suddenly blurred his vision. "I want Kusaka-kun back; I'd rather have his friendship than your stupid freezing power."

Hyorinmaru hissed. "That is immaterial now!" he snapped, rearing his long blue neck. Some fat snowflakes swirled down from the spirit-world's grey sky. Toushiro followed one with his eyes and wondered: was his own soul this cold and bleak? Was that what drew Hyorinmaru to him?

The hard look went out of his eyes, leaving him looking very young and no longer angry, only confused. "Why . . ." he asked in a quieter, ragged voice, "why couldn't you just pick one of us? Why did you make us fight for you like that?"

In a quick movement, the dragon swirled down to Toushiro's side. "Such things," he almost whispered, "are not within my control." Toushiro looked up. The stern, scaled face was as unreadable as ever, but the spirit sounded unhappy. Did Hyorinmaru regret forcing him and Kusaka to fight? Or regret that Toushiro had won?

"You should've just been Kusaka's zanpakuto. I would've surrendered the power willingly. That's what I told Central 46, but they wouldn't listen to me."

Hyorinmaru whipped his head around and snorted. "And why do you think that _I_ will listen? I suppose you were also not listening when Central 46 decreed that you were the rightful one to wield me? This . . . foolishness is _immaterial_." His red eyes narrowed.

Faced with the dragon's fury, Toushiro wondered if Hyorinmaru was going to make Toushiro fight him now. (Wasn't that how Soul Reapers trained?) "You," Hyorinmaru accused flatly, "do not want me?"

Toushiro felt his anger at Hyorinmaru dissipate. He swallowed hard. "That's not – I . . . I'm sorry."

Hyorinmaru snorted again, but more calmly this time. His shining body coiled fluidly to surround Toushiro. But rather than being alarming, it felt . . . comforting. _Kusaka . . . Hyorinmaru . . ._ Maybe it hadn't been such an unbalanced trade after all.

"You could never make a decision like that, giving me away to Kusaka," Hyorinmaru's rumbled quietly. "He could never have mastered my power."

Boy and dragon stared at one another. Toushiro looked away, tears pricking his eyelids again. He didn't really feel any better about the whole thing, but he realized now that he couldn't abandon this place and this creature his consciousness had created. (Was there any part of Kusaka's Hyorinmaru there, or had it all died with him?)

"I am sorry that they killed him."

Toushiro lowered his head. He crouched amid the dragon's coils, his small body shaking. Hyorinmaru folded his wings and listened to him crying quietly. The spirit sighed, breath condensing in the cold air, but curled his body around the small figure more tightly.

Toushiro Hitsugaya lay on an infirmary bed, facing away from his new zanpakuto, and slowly opened his icy teal-blue eyes. A brief flurry of snowflakes drifted down around him.


End file.
